February is Black History Month

Black History is American History. We are all part of this fabric that makes up the quilt of America. However, the story of our history has been downplayed in the history books that it is pathetic. We have to teach our children the truth. If you don’t know your history you are bound to repeat it.

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As evident as to the times right now in the U.S. I stand with everyone. I don’t play with Christianity and I don’t play with my love for this country. Which is why I have the right to criticize her when she’s wrong.

But, in the midst of all this drama that is occurring here in the U.S. I want to remind you that it’s never to early to start to teach our children about Black History. I started when Munch was 6 and learning to read. He did a report on black history and I wanted to try and fill in the blanks. Munch has an extensive school schedule but I wanted to spend time with him this month focusing on our history outside of his French and English curriculum. I want to fill in the blanks for him and allow him the opportunity to know what it means to say “I’m black and I’m proud”.

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Pride and self-love are very important in any race. I’m teaching him to love the skin he’s in. You can’t change it. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful and wanted.

So, my black history month reading list for Munch includes the following 4 books:

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What are you doing to teach your children about black history month? Do you have any suggested reading material for an 8 year old?

My Truth

An absolutely great read in honor of Women’s History Month and Black History Month too. Check her out at http://www.gingerfunksblog.com

EMBRACING MY INNER GINGER

Do you ever find something you wrote a long time ago and amaze yourself with how smart you were?  Sometimes I think we need to remind ourselves how much we really know.  Many times we know the answers to the questions we are asking but ignore them because they aren’t the answers we want. 

Truth. Honesty.  It’s amazing how speaking the truth does so much for one’s well being.  Being honest with yourself.  That is the key.  Why do we lie to ourselves?  Sometimes we are even afraid of our own truth.  Amazing.  Once we begin being truly honest with ourselves can we open up and allow the truth to flow around us.

Trust not just in other people but in ourselves!  That is the real truth.  Knowing ourselves and what we want.
Taking ego and fear out of the outcome.  Speaking your truth just frees you.  No matter the…

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Randomness on Leap Year!

Yes, it’s the last day of February and leap year. How awesome is that? I woke up this morning with a renewed sense of purpose and actually well rested. So, let me tell you six random things on this beautiful leap year day.

  • My son sang with the Sunbeam choir at church yesterday for the Black History Month Presentation. He looked so cute in his little dress shirt and bow tie. Very handsome. However, he continued to wave at me and his family most of the performance and at one point in the service I thought he had caught the holy spirit with his dancing and singing. It was hard to tell. I just smiled at the boy who gives me so much joy.
  • I didn’t see Mr. C this weekend at all. Can you believe it? It’s the first time in 5 months that I haven’t seen him on a Saturday. It was weird. He felt bad, but it was cool. I hung out with my girlfriend Saturday night for some much-needed quality time. She’s trying to convince me to come to Vegas in May and as much as I want to I can’t do it. It’s not the money as much as the time frame. I can’t do it then. Ugh!
  • I took off my acrylic nails and got a manicure Friday night. My nail tech is the best. I make bi-weekly hair and nail maintenance a part of my budget. I am now rocking my “real nails” and hopefully I won’t bite them off. It truly is a bad habit. But, don’t my nails look cute though?

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  • I’m in full party planning mode for Munch’s 8th birthday party on April 30th. His birthday falls on a Saturday this year and he told me that he wanted a pool party. All the dang swimming pools are booked on his birthday. I was explaining this to him and he said, “What does booked mean?” Ugh! I hate those type of questions because I feel like I can’t explain it to him in 7-year-old terms. We are having a Sonic birthday party.
  • I got some boxes and started taping them up this weekend for the move. I have so much to do and I’m looking around overwhelmed. I am praying for strength because moving sucks and it can be a lot. I just have to keep motivating myself to do something everyday so that I won’t be crunching it at the last-minute.
  • It’s the last day of Black History Month and I didn’t get a chance to highlight some of the people who I wanted to. I thought okay, I can spend time over the next 12 months highlighting some folks of notable interest. I don’t have to stop in February. I can keep going and that’s what I’m planning to do. People that I know. Some that I don’t that are making a difference in the community.

 

That’s about all the randomness going on right now. I hope you have a wonderful Monday and leap year!

 

My Baby is Black and Beautiful

Yes, he is. Can you tell that I’m proud? Just a little huh? This week has been a rough one, but I’m happy to say that we finished the PTSA program last night with my sweet munch doing an awesome job.

The PTSA program was a hit. All the children and performances were wonderful. I love his school. They encourage these children and let me tell you that the PTSA is very active and encouraging to me as a parent. For that, I am thankful.

Munch looked handsome for the ladies last night. Which is what he said. He actually told me that he wanted to wear this shirt and tie because he would say “Good-bye men and Hello Ladies!” WTH? I was floored.

He did look handsome though and his black is beautiful.

Here are some pictures:
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If you would like to check out his video of the performance, you can watch it below:

 

And So It Begins

Today is going to be a L-O-N-G day. Munch’s project was due today. No exceptions. It was another rainy day in Maryland and I had to use a large trash bag to cover his project up so that it didn’t get wet. We worried over that this morning at 7 am. But, I’m happy to say that we completed it.
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I told Munch to return the trash bag today so that we waste not want not. LOL. Don’t judge me. I ran outside to tell the before care driver to please make sure that Munch doesn’t leave his project in the van. It can’t be late or he will get a zero. He said okay. Kisses good-bye to my beautiful son and then I had to rush to get ready.

I had a follow-up doctor’s appointment on my right shoulder that’s been bothering me for the last month. I had the MRI’s done on Monday so I was anxious to find out what the heck is going on with me. The pain was subdued now because of the medications. I can actually go a whole 24 hours without a pain pill.

The results were inconclusive. No major damage. No spinal damage. No pinched nerves. He recommended therapy 2 times a week for the next 4 weeks and then follow-up again. Ugh! I then rushed to work in another rainy mess of a day.

I get to work and begin working and looked down to check my messages and found out that my son left his book bag in the van. The front office called me. Ugh! A call and a couple of text messages to the director of the center. He needs his book bag. His lunch and Tae Kwan Do uniform are in it. The director called back to say he would bring it. I called the school and said that Munch can eat at the cafeteria because I have money on his account.

Tonight is his presentation on Maya Angelou for the PTSA’s Black History Month Program. I’m excited. I wrote the speech yesterday and we worked on it last night. My best friend said, “Let me see it. She was your literary hero so the report is probably too long.” He cut it in half. Ugh! Munch will probably like it better.

I will let you know how it worked out tomorrow. Wish us luck!

 

For Black Boys

Today’s Black History spotlight is remembering two black boys…Emmett Till and Tamir Rice. As a mother of a black son I constantly think about the effects of racism in this country and how it will show its ugly head as he grows. My struggle to conceive him was overcome the moment I heard him cry. I carried him in my womb until my body could no longer support him being inside me. He was my first and last thought as I was rolled into the cold operating room.

That fear never went away. It was replaced as I started hearing about our black boys being murdered. You see, I lived a sheltered life and thought that only black boys that were gang bangers were being shot. This doesn’t happen in the suburbs.  Until, Trayvon Martin.

I paused.

How quickly a child’s laugh could be replaced with a mother’s mournful cry. A cry filled with so much pain that I can only try to stifle that growing and gnawing pain in my own stomach. I can’t imagine losing the little boy that I prayed for. That I carried in my womb ushering in his life.

Trayvon’s death helped me see that this world hadn’t changed much. That people will still judge you by the color of your skin. People will assume no matter how many degrees I may have or how much money I make or the nice cars I drive or fancy neighborhoods that I move into that my son doesn’t belong there. Because he is black.

Times have supposedly changed but they haven’t changed enough. I try to hide the target on my son’s back everyday that I send him to school armed with the items necessary for him to succeed…a book bag, his school uniform and lunch box filled with all his favorite foods. Notes, I think. Don’t forget to put that note in his lunch box telling him how much you love him and you’re so proud of him.

Because if you do…

You just want to make sure that he knows. He knows that he’s beautiful. He’s smart. He’s loved.

No playing with guns. No video games. Nothing that could ever make him a target. I buy him name brand clothes. Spend my hard earned money buying from shops that some of his peers can’t afford. My only child. If I hide him then they won’t see him right?

I’m doing it because I love him.

The same way that Emmett’s mother loved her son. The same way that Tamir’s mom thought that letting him play outside was okay. Both were children who didn’t come home one day. Children who will never graduate high school. Get married. Have kids. Have a future. Mother’s who felt the emptiness in their wombs from the loss of their boys.

I vow to remember the names. The countless names. I vow to try to change the system. I vow to remember that our history, Black History is America’s history and we have to do better.

Emmett Till – July 25, 1941 – August 28, 1955

Tamir Rice – June 25, 2002 – November 22, 2014